


Like Mixing Blood and Water

by MossPrinx



Series: They Come in Twos [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Double Wardens, Childhood Friends, F/F, F/M, Fantasy Abuse and Oppression, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 19:23:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11974047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MossPrinx/pseuds/MossPrinx
Summary: Separated for ten years and reunited by a Blight of all things, Tabris and Surana find that sometimes, friendships can't be rebuilt on nostalgia alone.A rewrite of "The Blood, The Water."





	Like Mixing Blood and Water

The sky was dark, stars shining bright and turning the lake around them into a glittering void - beautiful and not caring at all if it swallowed her whole.

 

Aereia Surana did not take her first steps out of the circle tower she’d called home for 10 years willingly. Instead, she gaped at what was  _ surely  _ certain death from just beyond the threshold, too scared go any further. The gloved hand of a Templar twisted into the fabric of her robes at her back, pulling back only to thrust her out into the world. The large doors she had only seen few times from inside slammed shut behind her, the minimal contents in her pack spilling onto the earth.

 

Distantly, she heard the sound of the Grey Warden shouting angrily at the door,  then mumbling something about “mistreating a lady” as strong hands pulled her to her feet. Even when he ducked down to pick up the journals and pens that fell from her bag, all she could focus on was the soil under her nails and on her cheek - the great, dark void before her threatening to consume every last trace of her, just as it had many mages before. 

 

_ “Jowan is my friend. If I said I regret helping him, knowing what I do now, I would be lying.” _

 

Where had that boldness gone? She suspected it was somewhere by the entrance, or maybe even as far back as her bed, left discarded on the floor like she and Lily. Aereia did not regret helping Jowan, nor would she ever allow herself to, but damn if she didn’t feel used.   
  
Maybe her boldness lie somewhere in the center of that black, soupy abyss before her.   
  
_ “Your ‘friend’ abandoned you, Aereia. The blood mage tricked you, and now you’re left to face punishment for yourself and him.” _

 

_ “So be it.” _ __   
__   
_ “Always playing the martyr, aren’t you?” _ __   
__   
Greagoir wasn’t wrong - it’s what got her in the Circle in the first place. She huffs a laugh - how ironic it was that it’s what got her out as well.

 

“Scary, isn’t it?”   
  


The new voice behind her, low in his chest but not at all gruff or imposing,  pulls her from her thoughts with a start. It’s Warden Alistair, holding her pack but looking out into the lake before them. His eyes seem far away for a moment, but they were kind when they finally turned back to her. Realizing he had been speaking to her, she hurriedly found her voice.

 

“I haven’t seen the outside world in, what - a decade? You couldn’t have chose a better time to recruit me, like say...daytime?”   
  
Watching the ferryman row across the night sky was disorienting. She hoped the Grey Warden got her joke.

 

“Or maybe  _ you  _ could have chose a better time to get caught?” Her eyebrows shot to her head, her tired eyes widening for just a second as a smug grin crossed his face. And she thought he was nice!   
  
...Still, that didn’t stop her from stifling a laugh into her hand, that smug grin on the Grey Warden’s face splitting into a more friendly one as he slung her pack across her back with his own. 

 

“You got me there, Grey Warden.”   
  
“Alistair. And expect a lot of getting from...me...Actually, let me stop there before I embarrass myself.”   
  
She snorted as she lifted her robes to step into the small boat, shifting over so the red-faced warden could slip in next to her, holding his arm when he stumbled as the ferryman pushed off. 

 

In an effort to look anywhere but the abyss they were so casually crossing, Aereia instead focused on her wringing hands and how they gripped her robes so tightly. The anxiety was manifesting itself like a boulder on her chest - no matter how far she curled in on herself, it wouldn’t roll away. She refused to let herself delve deeper into a panic on a tiny boat with a ways to go before they reached land, so she practiced her breathing and snuck a peek at her companion in the meantime. 

 

Alistair was watching the night sky, mouth agape and eye wide with silent wonder. Was that man really a Grey Warden, leaving himself open like that around a traitorous mage of all people? If she were a woman of lesser morals, she’d kill him once they were out of sight and be on her way. Luckily for him, she wasn’t, and the awkward human had won her trust when he’d stood up against Greagoir in her defense. She huffed a little sardonic laugh - what if the alienage could could see her now, putting her faith into a human man so easily? She was building quite the reputation for herself.

 

“So...Surana, was it?” A hand touched her shoulder gently, and it was only then that she noticed she’d tucked her head into her lap, unfurling sheepishly as she peeked up at the source. She must have zoned out, since they were significantly closer to the other side of the lake than she last recalled.   
  
A simple “mhm?” was all she could bring herself to say in that moment, the events leading up to that point finally catching up to her, if her suddenly trembling hands meant anything. If Alistair noticed, he didn’t say anything about it.   
  
“I was wondering...what exactly  _ were  _ they  _ feeding  _ you in that Circle? Because you are the biggest elf I think I’ve ever encountered!”

  
“...”   
  
“...”   
  
“Alistair...did you just call me f-”   
  
“ _ TALLEST. _ I-I meant tallest! I’d never call a woman fat, especially not one right in front of me- not that you are but-”   
  
“Warden…”   
  
“Aaaand you’re back to calling me Warden. Foot. Mouth. Got it.”   
  
Maybe trusting him would backfire. Maybe she was better off in the Circle. Maybe the mage quaking in her books wasn’t built to fight - gifted or not. But if the flustered man next to her was a mythical Grey Warden, the order couldn’t possibly be as serious as the legends went, right?

 

...Well, it was an adventure, at least. And who didn’t like one of those?   
  



End file.
